


Future Shock

by BreakfastTea



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 23:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15302076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: When Noctis has visions of the future, he's able to stop a number of accidents before they can happen. However, the ability soon begins to overwhelm him, putting his life in danger. And when Regis realises just how far into the future Noctis can see, he knows he has to stop the visions before too much is revealed.





	Future Shock

**Author's Note:**

> I mentioned this idea on my Tumblr a while back and *finally* managed to get the story together in time for today, my personal FFXV anniversary!
> 
> Happy on year of FFXV to me ^_^ Hope you all enjoy the story.

The first time it happened, Noctis slammed awake at three in the morning and knew he had to tell Gladio before it was too late. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and called his friend.

Gladio didn’t answer

“Shit.” What if he’d left his phone on silent? What if he was already too late? Heart slamming against his ribs, Noctis tried again. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

“This really, really better be good,” Gladio grumbled, half asleep.

“Don’t turn on the lights in your bedroom.”

“Noct, what the hell are you talking about? It’s three in the morning and if you’re screwing around – ”

“Gladio, there’s something wrong your room. If you turn on the lights, something’s gonna blow out. The house will burn. You won’t make it out. No one will.”

A beat of silence greeted him.

“Are you listening to me?” Noctis’ heart pounded frantically in his chest. “I’m not messing around!”

“Noct, come on. You had a bad dream. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s alright.”

“I’m serious! There’s something wrong. With the switch. I don’t know what it is, but it’s dangerous!”

“Take a breath for me, alright? You’re gonna hyperventilate.”

Noctis sucked in a breath. And another one. His heart rate dropped.

“You okay?” Gladio asked.

“I will be if you swear not to turn the lights on.”

“Alright, I swear. Listen, I’m just gonna turn the electrics off in the house and see if I can figure it out.”

“Since when were you an electrician?” Noctis shot back.

“If there’s no electricity, nothing can blow me up. Agreed?”

Noctis released another hefty breath. “Yeah, okay, agreed.”

“I’ll call you back.”

“Right.” Noctis hung up and spent the next ten minutes pacing impatiently back and forth. Wide awake and wired like he’d chugged an entire case of Ebony, he nearly sent his phone flying across his apartment when it finally rang. “Gladio? You okay?”

“How the hell did you know?” Gladio didn’t sound half-asleep now.

“I was right?” Adrenaline cascaded through Noctis. “Something’s wrong?”

“Loose wires,” Gladio said. “If I’d turned that light on, the spark would’ve set the whole place on fire.”

“Oh.” Suddenly weak, Noctis dropped into a chair.

“I’m serious, Noct. How did you know?”

“Dreamt it,” Noctis replied. He rubbed his face and his hand came back wet. Blood. His nose was bleeding.

“Listen, Dad’s got things in hand here. You need me to come over? Because this shit is weird,” Gladio said.

“No. I’m fine. And so are you and your family.” Noctis felt tearful with relief.

“Since when did you see the future?” Gladio asked.

“Just this time,” Noctis said, swiping at his nose again.

“You need to talk to your dad about it,” Gladio said.

Noctis didn’t answer. He didn’t want to bother his dad, especially at three in the morning.

“If you don’t, my dad will.”

Noctis laughed. “Seriously? You and your dad are gonna tell on me?”

Gladio laughed too. “I know it sounds dumb, but I will if I have to. You’re seeing the future and there’s only one person who can help with that.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow, okay?”

“You’d better.”

Noctis sighed. “Yeah, yeah.”

“And Ignis.”

“Really?”

“Really. Don’t make me call him too.”

“Fine,” Noctis grumbled. “But no one else has to know. Not Prompto.”

“Alright. Get some sleep. I’ll see you after school tomorrow for training.”

“Yeah. Good night.”

Noctis ended the call but he didn’t go back to bed. He didn’t sleep another wink that night.

* * *

The second time it happened, a month after the incident with Gladio, Noctis was halfway through a shift at his part time job when he walked out of the kitchen, into the locker room, pulled his phone out of his bag and called Ignis.

“You’re supposed to be working,” Ignis said. “Your boss won’t be lenient on you because of your –”

“Cake’s burning, Ignis.”

“Come again?”

Noctis could see it. Smell it. The oven at Ignis’ house. A cake for his mother’s birthday. If Ignis didn’t attend to it now, it would be ruined. Why was Ignis so distracted? Noctis searched for an answer. His wandering mind took him deeper into Ignis’ home, to a room near the back where beautiful music emerged.

Liquid flowed down Noctis’ face. Pain stabbed deep into his head. “You always did play perfectly. Your mother will love it,” he said. “But if you don’t stop practicing, the cake’s gonna burn.”

“Noct, I haven’t even put it in the oven yet. I’ve only just added the eggs.”

“Oh.” Noctis wiped his nose on the back of his hand. He caught the edge of his work shirt, smearing blood across it. “At least you know not to get distracted by your piano practice now.”

“You’re having another one of those precognitive flashes.”

“Uh, yeah.” Noctis blinked, the vision of Ignis’ music-filled house fading and the locker room at the restaurant tumbling back into view. “But it’s over now.”

“You remember your father’s advice?”

After the first time with Gladio, Noctis had reluctantly informed his father, but only to avoid other people beating him to it. His dad had called him into his office, explained that precognitive dreams were not unknown to their bloodline, and to rest assured that they would pass and take all their symptoms with them. After a vision, he simply needed to treat the nosebleed and medicate the headache away.

“Noct! You’ll take care of it?” Ignis asked.

“Yeah, I can manage.” The nosebleed wasn’t stopping but the headache wasn’t getting any worse. “Remember the cake, okay?”

“I’ll hardly forget it now.”

“Right,” Noctis said. “Anyway, have a good day. Say hi to your parents for me.”

“I will. Take care. Call if you –”

Noctis hung up, dropped his phone back into his bag, and pressed a wad of tissue to his nose with one hand. The other he pressed against his skull, hoping it would stop the sledgehammer pounding away in there. He sat heavily on a stool, hoping his nose would stop bleeding long enough for him to get back to work.

The locker room door burst open and Noctis’ boss walked in. “Kid, I know who you are but while you’re here you’re just another employee and right now you ain’t where I need you to – oh!” The middle-aged man dropped to his knees in front of Noctis. “Stay there and don’t move. I’ll grab an ice pack and we’ll get that nosebleed sorted.”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to –”

“Kid, do you know how many employment laws I’ll be breaking if I let an employee walk back into my restaurant bleeding the way you are? Heck, your dad reformed some of those laws when he became King. There’s no way in hell I’m breaking them with you.”

Unable to argue back, Noctis allowed his boss to not only deal with the nosebleed, but also take him home when the blood-loss and headache left him too dizzy to stand.

Couldn’t he have visions of the future without embarrassing himself?

* * *

The third time it happened, Noctis watched a truck knock Prompto off his feet seconds before it almost happened for real. Caught between present and potential future, Noctis grabbed his chattering friend and wrenched him away from the crossing in the same instant a truck skipped the red light.

“Noct! Holy crap, I think you just saved my life!” Prompto turned to face him. “How did you know?”

Noctis snorted two nostrils’ worth of blood back up and swallowed, wincing at the bitter taste. “Some of us pay attention,” he said.

Prompto stared at him. “That truck came around a corner.”

Noctis felt a telltale trickle up his nose. His head gave a lethargic throb. Dammit. He didn’t want Prompto to know about the visions. Their friendship was so ordinary. He wanted it to stay that way. “I just saw it in time. You’re welcome.”

“However you did it, thank you. I… oh, wow, I just… I nearly died just then.” Prompto paled several shades in seconds. “I, um, I don’t feel so good.”

Noctis dragged his friend to a nearby bench and pressed Prompto’s head down. “Breathe. You’re okay.”

“Yeah, but what if you hadn’t seen it? What if I’d been alone? I would’ve died. That truck would’ve killed me! I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Focus on what did happen,” Noctis said. He grabbed a tissue out of his blazer pocket and held it to his nose. Not now. He couldn’t have a full on gushing nosebleed right now. “You’re safe.”

“Yeah, I know. But –”

“Breathe,” Noctis said. He placed his non-bloody hand on Prompto’s back, rubbing slow, gentle circles. “Cry if you have to, but remember, you’re safe.”

“I’m sorry,” Prompto said, shaky and tearful. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You’re in shock,” Noctis said. “It’s normal.”

“Normal?” Prompto laughed nervously. “None of this is normal.”

“Slow breaths,” Noctis said. “In and out.” He demonstrated for Prompto, and felt some of his own anxiety seeping away too. He pulled the tissue away from his nose. No good. He was still bleeding.

Prompto did was he was told.

“Sit up when you feel ready,” Noctis said. “Take it slow. You might be dizzy.”

A few minutes went by, the only sound those coming from the road. Noctis willed his nose to stop bleeding. He could deal with the thick, sickly headache, but if he didn’t stop bleeding, Prompto would definitely freak out.

“Okay,” Prompto said. “I feel better.”

Relived to find his nosebleed had stopped, Noctis threw his tissue into a nearby trash can. “Want me to walk you home?”

Prompto laughed. “Nah, I think I can manage.” He blinked at Noctis and frowned. “You okay? You look really pale. Maybe I should walk you home.”

“Nah, I’m alright.” Noctis stood up as if to prove his point. “Let’s go.”

Except he took one step forwards and his body wobbled unsteadily.

“Noct!” Prompto grabbed him, helping him to stay upright. “Dude, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Noctis said. “Didn’t get my feet under me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He smiled at his friend. “Come on. We’ve still got time to go to the arcade.”

“Actually, could we go somewhere quieter?” Prompto asked. “Not sure my heart can take more adrenaline today.”

Relieved, because his headache couldn’t take the arcade either, Noctis nodded. “Coffee shop? You can get decaf.”

“Great idea.”

Two hours, and half a cup of decaf later, Noctis’ headache was so bad he’d lost sight in one eye. Flickers of futures shot across his mind, too fast to see clearly. Dad hadn’t said anything about it being this intense. Noctis knew he needed to go home and collapse into bed.

“Thanks again,” Prompto said. “I owe you my life.”

“Anytime,” Noctis said. “Just take it slow on the way home. And text me when you get there.”

“Yeah, I will. See you tomorrow.”

“Night, Prompto.”

Noctis made his way back to his apartment. He barely made it inside before another vision assaulted him. And another. Another. Flickers of futures so far ahead he saw his friends aged and standing in places he knew only from books. Places beyond the Wall.

He saw Luna, older and standing proud in a water-filled city he’d only seen in dreams.

He saw MT jump ships flying overhead.

He saw –

“Noct?”

“Yeah?” He looked up and saw Ignis staring at him. Pain stabbed through his skull. He winced, the lights too much for his screaming headache. The pain worsened. He pressed his hands to his head, grunting.

Ignis said nothing. He grabbed Noctis’ school bag and ushered him into the room. He flipped the lights off as they went.

“Bathroom?” Ignis asked, keeping his voice soft.

“Bed,” Noctis said.

Another vision hit him. Himself. Surrounded by fire, facing horrific daemons alone. His knees buckled. The nosebleed restarted, and this time it splashed down his school shirt. “Sorry,” he said.

“I’ll call the doctor,” Ignis said. He handed over a handkerchief. “Pinch your nose.”

Taking the handkerchief, Noctis was in too much pain to argue. They made it to his bedroom and Noctis eased himself into bed, willing his headache to subside. He kept his head bowed, the handkerchief soon soaked through. Ignis replaced it with another.

The doctor arrived half an hour later and delivered a hefty painkiller. He was trained in treating both King Regis and Noctis, knowing how to use the right medicines that would not negatively impact them due to their connection to the Crystal. Relief washed through Noctis as the painkiller took hold. The last thing he heard was the doctor reassuring Ignis it was a migraine and nothing more serious and yes, King Regis had made him aware of the other effects of Noctis’ headaches.

Noctis slept the dreamless sleep of the drugged.

* * *

After the time with Prompto, the visions settled down for several weeks. Noctis had a few flashes, stopped a few minor incidents (including saving himself from taking a football to the face with a simple kick which, according to Prompto, was the _coolest thing ever!!!!_ ) The nosebleeds became easy to wipe away trickles, and the headaches were easily ignored. Noctis kept the truth hidden from Prompto, and managed to reassure Ignis and Gladio that things were almost back to normal.

Now, on the day before his Dad’s birthday, Noctis headed to the Citadel. Every year they had dinner together, just the two of them, before the more official and grandiose celebrations started the following day.

Noctis entered his father’s chambers. Dad was there, finishing up some work at his desk. He looked up, smiling. “Noct, how are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Older, apparently.” Regis chuckled and stood up. He grabbed his cane and walked over. Noctis tried not to wince. He wished more than anything that Dad didn’t need it. “It’s good to see you.”

Noctis smiled, his joy real. “It’s good to see you too, Dad.”

“I swear you’ve grown again,” Regis said. “I think a trip to the tailor is in order.”

“If you say so.” Noctis accepted a hug from his Dad. The future took over, slamming into him with the force of a car.

“Noct?”

Dad’s voice came from so far away. Noctis stood in a room reserved for state functions, surrounded on both sides. Lucians stood to one side, and the Emperor of Niflheim and his people to the other.

Someone shook him. Noctis blinked. The vision passed. He looked up at his dad through fuzzy eyes and saw panic there. “Sorry.”

“Visions,” Dad said. “Correct?”

“Yeah, but –”

“They will pass,” Dad said.

“I know. It’s just –”

“They’re intense?” Dad asked.

“I thought they’d finished,” Noctis said. He massaged his head. “Was it like this for you?”

“Perhaps not quite as severe, but I certainly had some strange moments.” He looked nostalgic, smiling fondly. “I called Clarus and told him he was about to be late for a date with his future wife and if he didn’t get a move on, it would destroy their relationship.” Regis’ smile morphed into a smirk. “I do consider myself the reason both Gladiolus and Iris exist.”

Noctis smiled faintly. “Right.”

The future attacked again. Noctis watched his father looking so much older than he did now casting a shield, telling the people behind him to run for cover.

A man in armour approached Dad, a terrible weapon in his hands.     

“Noct, look at me.”

Noctis stared up at his dad. “I’m okay.”

“I’m not sure that you are,” Dad said. “Sit.” He pressed Noctis into a chair on the other side of his desk. “What did you see?”

Noctis shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to tempt fate into delivering the future exactly as he’d seen it.

Dad’s hand pressed against his cheek. “Talk to me. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s happening.”

The words spilled out of Noctis. “Lucis. And Niflheim. Here. Together. Something goes wrong. Everyone’s fighting.” He pressed his hands to his eyes but he couldn’t cover up the images etched into his mind. “People are dying.”

“What?” Dad’s voice was cold, empty.

“There someone else. Someone who wants to hurt you. And I –”

Noctis blinked and found himself in the future again. He saw Lucis and Niflheim, together in the Citadel. Moments later, an attack tore the room apart. He watched Clarus take his place, defending his father against the man in armour.

“No,” Noctis breathed. “No, don’t.”

Hands shook him. A familiar voice shouted his name, but all Noctis could see were people he knew dying horribly.

Clarus died.

The vision changed. Noctis saw the unknown man with sword cut his father down.

“NO! Dad, no!”

Noctis felt blood pouring down his face. Warm, soothing Cure magic washed over him. The vision shattered, leaving Noctis in the present again. He fell into Dad’s arms.

“He’ll kill you,” Noctis whispered. Pain squeezed his skull. Wetness dribbled from his nose and ears. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Dad. You die. Clarus dies.” Noctis saw flames reaching for the sky as the city burned. “Insomnia falls.”

“Stop, Noct. Sleep now. No more of these visions.”

“No.” Noctis couldn’t stop. Not now. He had to know what was coming. If he knew, he could stop it, just like he’d stopped everything else. He pushed his mind into the future, even as the pain ratcheted up. He saw beyond Insomnia. Beyond the Wall.

The Regalia on a long, long road.

Himself.

Ignis.

Gladio.

Prompto.

And a road through the desert.

He laughed, the sound strangled. “The car broke down.”

“No more, Noct. Stop this at once!”

The vision fizzled at the edges. His dad’s panicked face showed through the dream. “Why aren’t we in the city?” Noctis asked him. “Why won’t I be with you?”

He had to know. He had to understand so he could change it. He couldn’t let his father die while he drove away. He cried out, the pain in his head blinding him. He tasted blood in his mouth, felt it flowing over his lips.

“Enough!” Dad said.

“No! I can’t let you die!”

Dad’s hand pressed against Noctis’ eyes. “Sleep.”

This time, the magic crashed into him. He couldn’t fight back. The spell plunged him into the depths of a dark, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Regis wasted no time. Resting Noctis on the ground, hating that he no longer had the strength to carry his own child, he called Clarus and ordered his Shield to come – and come quietly and without alerting anyone. Two minutes later, Clarus appeared in Regis’ private chambers.

Regis watched his friend take in the sight of Noctis, bloodied and unconscious.

“I take it the visions haven’t passed,” Clarus said, tone grim.

“Not in the slightest,” Regis said. “Take him to my bed.”

Clarus crouched down, his hand brushing Noctis’ forehead. “He’s feverish.”

“He is?” Regis asked, anxious.

Clarus lifted Noctis carefully. “He lost consciousness?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Clarus looked up at him. “Magic?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Regis said. “I had to stop him.”

“I’m not sure how comfortable I am with you knocking your own child out, Regis,” Clarus said.

“He saw too far ahead,” Regis said. “To things he cannot know about. Not yet.”

For a moment, Clarus didn’t speak. Regis could see his friend trying to gather himself.

“To the moment of prophecy?” Clarus asked.

“To my death. And further, I think. He was able to look deeper at will. He saw himself beyond the city, as we have planned should the need arise,” Regis said. The knowledge of his own death hadn’t hit him yet. He’d always known his life would be far shorter than it should be, but the idea that his son had witnessed it was too much to process. “It suggests to me there is no hope of ending the war before Noctis will have to start the journey set before him by the Astrals.” He raised a trembling hand, intending to place it against his head. He stopped when he caught sight of his son’s blood coating his fingers. “By the gods, Clarus, I never saw so much at his age. I don’t understand why this is happening to him.”

“Perhaps the gods would prefer that he know of his fate.” Clarus kicked Regis’ bedroom door open. “They care so little for human emotions after all.”

Protective rage burned in Regis’ chest. “I cannot allow that.”

Clarus carried Noctis across Regis’ chamber and placed Noctis on the bed. “Will he remember?”

Regis faltered. Would Noctis remember all that he’d seen? Why wouldn’t he? There would be no way to convince him he’d merely dreamt of the things he’d seen, things Regis wanted to keep from him until the bitter end. He looked at his son, fast asleep, blood staining his face and his clothes. Regis moved to Noctis’ side. He reached out, brushing his hand through Noctis’ hair. It came back bloody.

“Call the doctor,” Regis said. “Discreetly.”

“Of course.” Clarus made the call.

Regis’ hand closed around Noctis’. He felt callouses he’d never noticed before, signs he trained well with Gladio. A flicker of pride went through him. Despite the distance between them these days, Noctis still did what was asked of him. “He can’t know,” Regis said once Clarus hung up. “I won’t allow it.”

“What can we do?” Clarus asked.

“I –” A polite knock at the door silenced Regis. “Enter!” He called out.

The doctor stepped in. He bowed respectfully. “Your Majesty, My Lord.”

Regis stepped back as the doctor approached. “The visions worsened,” he said. “This last one was longer than any of the others he’s shared with me.”

The doctor, one of the eldest on staff who had seen Regis through this period in his life, frowned. “This is unexpected. Did he lose consciousness or did he fall asleep?”

“He fell asleep,” Regis said, ignoring Clarus’ sharp look. “The last vision was quite intense.”

The doctor had his fingers pressed to Noctis’ pulse. “His heartrate is elevated. I think he’s in pain.” He reached for his bag. “If you don’t mind, Your Majesty, I need a few moments to treat him.”

“Come,” Clarus said. “We can wait in the parlour.”

They stepped out, leaving the doctor to treat Noctis. Clarus closed the doors while Regis paced as best he could across the room, his limp worsening.

“What can we do?” Clarus asked.

“I’m not sure,” Regis said. Panic clouded his thoughts.

“He can’t sleep forever,” Clarus said.

Regis laughed. “I think Ignis would beg to differ.”

Clarus smiled. “Yes, Gladio has mentioned it as well.”

Leg aching, knee throbbing mercilessly, Regis reluctantly sat at the parlour’s small coffee table. “Part of our connection to the Crystal means we have to endure these moments of precognition. I still have them, although the last one I had of that magnitude was when Noct was five. When –” Emotions choked him off.

Clarus stood at his side, his hand resting on Regis’ shoulder. “He’ll be alright.”

“No, he won’t be,” Regis said. “Not if he wakes up and remembers.”

“What will you do, force him to sleep until you can make him forget?” Clarus asked.

The bedroom doors opened before Regis could answer. The doctor slipped out. Regis stood, knees cracking. “How is he?” he asked.

“I’ve administered a painkiller and cleaned up the blood,” the doctor said. “He’s resting, but I believe he’s dreaming.”

Regis felt sick. “Of the future?”

“That I cannot tell. I’ll be honest, Your Majesty, the prince seems to be struggling and I cannot awaken him. He also has a fever that I’m concerned about. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to have a nurse bring along additional medicine. Just as a precaution.”

Regis nodded. “Whatever you need.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I will send for the nurse. I suggest you give him a few hours to rest. Hopefully, once he awakens, I’ll be able to judge whether or not the prolonged vision has had any lingering effects.”

“Take care of him, doctor,” Regis said.

The doctor bowed and returned to the bedroom.

“You should let him wake up,” Clarus said. “If he’s dreaming, why force him to sleep?”

“He’s safer asleep,” Regis said. “You don’t understand, Clarus. He pushed himself to see further into the future. That took its toll. If he’s sleeping, he can’t put himself under that kind of strain again.”

“Fine, but I don’t have to like it,” Clarus said.

Regis sat back down, mind churning furiously. There had to be an answer. He had to be able to protect Noctis from the future for a little while longer. It wasn’t fair that now even his dreams turned against him, dragging him into his fate five years too early.

“Wait,” Regis said, sitting straighter. “Clarus, that’s it!”

“What?”

Regis pulled his phone out of his pocket just as another knock came at the door. Clarus dealt with the nurse. Retreating to his private office, Regis made the call.

Ignis answered immediately. “Your Majesty, how can I be of assistance?”

“Do you know where Noct’s Carbuncle statuette is?” Regis asked, his hand squeezing the phone so tightly the plastic cracked.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” If the strangeness of the question threw Ignis at all, he hid it well.

“I need you to bring it to my chambers immediately.”

“Of course. The trip should take an hour, no more.”

“Thank you, Ignis. Please, make haste.”

Regis hung up and dropped the phone back into his pocket. He leaned on his desk chair, willing his emotions to fall back. The urge to weep, to scream at the gods, at fate, at anyone and anything that might listen, threatened to engulf him, a swell pressing against his chest. But he breathed.

Futures could be changed. And if they couldn’t, the truth didn’t have to burden his fifteen-year-old son.

* * *

Ignis never questioned the king. And he knew, without asking, that something was badly wrong. Those damned dreams of Noctis’ clearly hadn’t let up. Dreading to think what had happened, Ignis didn’t even bother with his post workout shower. He would simply have to hope the deodorant would cover any unpleasant odours.

He drove out of the Citadel five minutes later and hit the streets. It was the middle of the day on a Saturday, so traffic was horrific. Ignis mastered his impatience, resisting every urge he had to slam his fist against the horn and shove his way through traffic.

By the time he made it to Noctis’ apartment, Ignis craved an Ebony. Anything to settle his nerves. Instead, he rode the lift to Noctis’ door and entered the apartment. It was… well, not exactly clean but not the trash heap it occasionally became. He hadn’t stopped by in a few days owing to a family holiday, but he had to admit Noctis hadn’t done a terrible job looking after himself.

Ignis moved straight through to the bedroom. He frowned at the sight of bloodied tissues in the wastepaper basket and, worse still, a few specks on the pillow. But that was a problem for later. Right now, he had to find Carbuncle.

He found the statuette on the shelf above Noctis’ bed. Ignis picked it up, cradling it gently. He remembered Carbuncle’s presence well in the aftermath of the Marilith attack. Noctis hadn’t been without it since. Back then, he insisted Carbuncle appeared in his dreams. These days, Noctis didn’t speak of seeing the tiny figure, but he’d kept the statuette for all these years and Ignis carried it back to his car with the utmost of care.

“If you can protect him, now would be the time,” Ignis said.

He returned to the Citadel, the traffic not quite so severe. He parked, took the private lift to the King’s chambers, and knocked on the doors. Clarus opened them, ushering him in.

The sounds of muffled cries came from the bedroom. Ignis looked at Clarus, unable to keep the concern off his face. His features refused to be schooled into a placid look.

“Awake or asleep, he is plagued by visions,” Clarus said. “We can’t pull him back to reality. Even the doctor is at a loss.”

Ignis held out Carbuncle. “His Majesty requested I bring this.”

Clarus nodded. “At the moment, we’ll take anything.”

Clarus opened the bedroom doors. Ignis stepped in. He found Regis standing at the foot of the bed, watching Noctis worriedly as he tossed and turned in his sleep. The doctor tried to settle him, but to no avail.

Regis turned. He was pale and looked older than he had the last time Ignis had seen him. “Did you find it?” he asked.

Ignis held Carbuncle out. “Noct has looked after it.”

Regis took it. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I need you all to leave us. Just for a few moments.”

Nobody argued. Everyone stepped out, including the doctor.

“Ignis!” Noctis cried out from the bed. He sat bolt upright, eyes open. His pupils were pinpricks, barely visible in the glowing, crystalline blue. “Please, don’t do wear it. It’s not worth it!”

Clarus put a hand on Ignis’ shoulder. “Come. There’s nothing you can do. Whatever clarity he possessed earlier has long since passed.”

Heart heavy, Ignis allowed himself to be led out by Clarus.

* * *

Regis sat at Noctis’ side. His son twitched and rolled from one side of the bed to the other, smearing blood across the sheets. He mumbled and muttered under his breath, the words harder and harder to understand. Regis reached out and grabbed Noctis’ hand, holding Carbuncle there.

“Here,” he said. “Ignis brought an old friend. I beg that Carbuncle once again protects your dreams so that you may find your way back to us.” Regis pressed a finger to Carbuncle’s tiny head. “Please, protect him. Take the memories of what he’s seen. He’s too young. He doesn’t need this burden.”

Like old times, Regis placed Carbuncle next to Noctis’ pillow. He watched as Noctis settled, falling into a silent sleep. His nose had bled again. Regis reached for the wipes the doctor had left behind and cleaned his son up. He brushed a hand through sweat-slickened hair. “There,” he said, voice soft. “You’re safe now. We’ve got you.”

Regis slid off the bed and onto the chair beside the bed. And then he waited.

* * *

Noctis couldn’t make sense of anything. He flashed from place to place, never staying long enough to work out where he was or what was happening. He saw people he knew but they were different. Older. He saw places he knew, but they burned and crumbled before him. He saw places he didn’t know, and he couldn’t understand why his friends were there with him looking so much older.

The switching left him nauseous, his body and mind pulled from place to place. He lost his footing and fell to the ground. Countless voices screamed at him, and covering his ears didn’t block it out.

“Stop it,” he begged. “Stop!”

A bright flash of ruby light cut across Noctis’ vision. When it faded, he found himself in a forest. Pushing himself upright, he looked up and saw a familiar figure trotting towards him. Relief brought tears to his eyes. He reached out, unable to find his voice.

Carbuncle, phone in mouth, reached him, tiny head butting up against Noctis’ hand. Carbuncle dropped the phone. Noctis reached for it and read the message.

_I’m sorry it took me so long to get here._

Noctis swallowed. “That’s okay,” he said, voice hoarse. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d screamed at what he’d seen.

_No, it’s not okay. This power is too much. The connection is too strong._

It was hard to remember what he’d seen, but one thing cut across all the others. “Dad’s going to die. He’ll be murdered. But I can’t see who’s behind the armour. I just know I’m not there.” He shook his head, tears splashing down his cheeks. “I can’t let that happen.” And there was something else. Something about Ignis…

A sad Chocobo emoji appeared onscreen. Carbuncle licked Noctis’ cheeks, mewling softly. _I’m sorry_ , the message read. _But we can’t let you remember any of it. It’s for your own good. The burden would be too great, and already so much relies upon you._

Magic gathered, a great swell surrounding Noctis. He looked at Carbuncle and shook his head. “Don’t,” he pleaded. “Don’t do anything. I have to tell Dad. I have to stop him before it’s too late! He can’t die like that. He can’t!”

Carbuncle looked so sad. Noctis reached out, arm shaking. But Carbuncle darted out of reach.

“Don’t,” Noctis said. He knew he was asleep, but he had no way to fight back. “Please, don’t take those memories from me!”

Noctis heard a chirp, and then ruby red light washed his vision away.

* * *

It was a long, long night. Regis sent Clarus and Ignis home, insisting he would contact both should he need them. Noctis settled, but he wouldn’t awaken. It was no longer Regis’ magic keeping him asleep but his own body. The doctor returned to check on Noctis and attempted to wake him shortly after midnight, but he was completely non-responsive.

“If he doesn’t awaken in the morning, Your Majesty, we’ll have to take him to the infirmary for further testing,” the doctor said.

“Of course,” Regis said. His eyes landed on the Carbuncle statuette. He could only hope his gamble would pay off. After all, Carbuncle was a guardian spirit who’d come to Noctis’ aid before. Maybe, just maybe, Carbuncle could pull off another miracle.

“I have a hypothesis as to why this particular brand of magic may be more pronounced with the Prince compared to both yourself and your father,” the doctor said.

“Oh?” Regis asked. He turned to the doctor. “Have there been no other cases of this level of precognition with my ancestors?”

“Well, yes, actually. Including Prince Noctis, there are three in total. And one thing unites them.”

Regis had a bad feeling he knew what the answer would be.

“All three lost their mothers before the age of one.”

“Oh.” Regis took a moment to process that information.

“Losing a parent has lingering effects,” the doctor said. “Even in the very young. It’s possible that he, and your ancestors, would unconsciously look for ways that would keep their remaining loved ones safe. The crystal gives you the power to do so.”

Regis leaned back in his chair. “It would make sense.”

“It is a phase that will pass,” the doctor said. “I can’t give an estimate on how long it will take, but this won’t be the way he is for the rest of his life.”

Regis glanced at Carbuncle. “I know,” he said. “But I hate that it’s already hurt him so much.”

“Your son is strong,” the doctor said. “He will be alright, Your Majesty.”

The doctor took his leave, promising to return in the morning and reminding Regis to call if he needed anything. In the peace and quiet, Regis allowed himself to feel his exhaustion. He slumped in his chair and closed his eyes.

He was asleep within seconds. His dreams were restless and fretful until he heard a tiny chirp. The sound kicked him back into wakefulness. Regis opened his eyes to find daylight pouring into his bedroom. He stared, amazed, at the sunshine. Hadn’t he only fallen asleep moments ago?

The sound of shifting sheets drew Regis out of his confusion. He looked over and saw Noctis stirring. He reached over and placed a hand on his son’s head. He was cooler than before, the fever lessened thanks to the doctor’s treatment.

“Noctis? Can you hear me?”

Noctis’ eyes cracked open. He looked up at Regis, gaze glazed. “Dad?” his voice was barely a whisper.

“You need to wake up for me. Just for a little while.”

Noctis tried. Regis watched him fight to open his eyes just a little bit more. His heart ached at the sight of his son trying to do what he’d been asked to do.

“How are you feeling?” Regis asked.

Noctis’ lips twitched into a smile. “Tired.” His eyelids slid shut. “Head hurts. Sorry”

“You don’t have to be sorry. But Noct, I need to –”

It was no good. Noctis relaxed back into sleep. Regis moved, his body sore and stiff after a night in the chair. He glanced at a clock and saw it was barely six am. His staff would be along soon with breakfast. Then the tailor would come by to ensure Regis’ clothes for his birthday celebrations fitted properly. Regis scrubbed hand over his face. The last thing he wanted to do today was celebrate. Not until he could be certain about Noctis’ condition. But duty called, and Noctis wouldn’t thank him for announcing to the entire country that he was unwell.

So, instead, Regis would have to do what he always did. Picking up his phone, he called the next best person.

When Ignis arrived thirty minutes later, Regis was halfway through his breakfast. The doors to his bedroom were kept closed; no one needed to know Noctis was in there. A servant prepared a plate and a cup of coffee for Ignis, who thanked them for their kindness.

“Please, Ignis, sit.”

Ignis bowed and placed a small present upon the coffee table. “Happy Birthday, Your Majesty,” he said.

“Thank you, Ignis,” Regis said. He cleared his throat and the servants took their cues, disappearing without a word. “Stay with Noct today. I can’t be certain if we’re through the worst of it, but he woke up not too long ago.”

Regis could see the relief on Ignis’ features. “That’s good to hear, Your Majesty.”

“Call immediately if there’s a problem,” Regis said. “And alert the doctor. He’ll be coming in to check on Noct later, but don’t hesitate to contact him if there’s a problem.”

Ignis sat down. “Of course.” He reached for his coffee, only to hesitate. “Your Majesty, I must apologise. I should have alerted you sooner to how severe these precognitive experiences were.”

Regis smiled. “Ignis, should you too develop a temporary ability to read the future, please let me know so that, between us, we can keep a closer eye on Noct.”

“I had no idea they were this severe,” Ignis said.

“Honestly, I don’t think Noct did until yesterday. I know I didn’t. But the doctor says this happens to people in our family every so often. Noct is one of the unlucky ones.”

“I see.” Ignis reached for his coffee. “He called me on my mother’s birthday to tell me not to burn the cake.”

Regis chuckled. “Really?”

“I saved him a slice at Mother’s insistence,” Ignis said.

They ate breakfast together, their phones both set to mute. At eight o’clock precisely, the tailor arrived. Ignis slipped into Regis’ bedroom and approached the bed. Noctis remained fast asleep, curled up on his side. Ignis remembered the days when Noctis would spread like an ink stain across the bedsheets. Now, he slept like he didn’t want to risk taking up too much room. Ignis took in how pale his friend was, and how much blood stained the sheets, but compared to last night, he seemed to be resting easily. Ignis spotted Carbuncle beside Noctis’ pillow, and hoped the small guardian had worked some magic.

An hour later, the doctor came in. He checked Noctis over and then began the laborious task of trying to wake someone who absolutely did not want to wake up.

“Perhaps I should try,” Ignis offered.

“Is he always like this?” the doctor asked.

“Oh, no,” Ignis said. “Sometimes he’s worse.”

Noctis stirred, eyes opening. Between them, Ignis and the doctor managed to sit him up. Noctis squinted up a them. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Do you know where you are?” the doctor asked.

“No.” Noctis’ eyes drooped.

“Stay awake,” Ignis ordered him. “The doctor needs to check you over.”

Noctis grunted. With his eyes shut.

“Noct!” Ignis said sharply. “Open your eyes.”

Noctis dragged them open. He looked up at Ignis, blinking hard. “You’re okay?” he asked. He sounded so worried. “I thought you’d…” He pressed a hand to his head. “I thought something bad happened.”

“I’m fine,” Ignis said.

Noctis rubbed his head. “My head hurts.”

“We can deal with that,” the doctor said. “But first, tell me what you remember about how you came to be here.”

“I don’t even know where I am,” Noctis said. His eyes were barely open. “Can’t see clearly.”

“Stay awake,” the doctor said. “Tell me the last thing you remember.”

Ignis could see Noctis thinking hard. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I think… did someone get hurt?”

“No, everyone is fine,” Ignis said.

“And now it’s time for me to make sure you’re fine as well,” the doctor said.

Noctis didn’t answer. His eyes had closed and he visibly sank into his pillows.

For much of the morning, Ignis and the doctor would force Noctis to wake up and talk, almost like he had a concussion. He became more coherent with each awakening, and by the time he woke up for longer than five minutes, he finally realised he was in his father’s bedroom.

“Why am I here?” Noctis asked.

“Your father wanted to see you,” Ignis said. “And then I think those visions you’ve been having got the better of you.”

Noctis stared up at him. “I don’t remember that.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best,” the doctor said. “It put too much pressure on you.”

“Do you remember anything you saw?” Ignis asked.

“No.” Noctis frowned. “Isn’t today… isn’t it Dad’s birthday?”

“It is. He would be here, if not for the official engagements,” Ignis said. “You know how these things are, Noct. There are too many visiting dignitaries for him to –”

“Yeah, I know.” Noctis yawned again. “I just… forgot.” He settled back against the pillows, losing the battle to keep his eyes open once more. “I think I’ve forgotten too much.”

“Again, Your Highness, it’s for the best,” the doctor said.

Ignis couldn’t make out Noctis’ mumbled replies. He looked and saw Noctis was already fast asleep again. Still, he had to note that his pallor looked far better than it had, and he hadn’t had a reoccurrence of the terrible nosebleeds. The doctor seemed pleased.

“I think he’s through the worst of it,” he told Ignis. “I’ll leave you both to it for now. Let him sleep for as long as he can. When he wakes up, give him something light to eat and plenty of fluids. Should he have any further problems, call me.”

“Of course. Thank you,” Ignis said, bowing slightly.

The doctor left. Ignis sat at Noctis’ bedside, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and began responding to the texts he’d received from both Gladio and Prompto. _Noct’s fine_ , he typed. _Sleeping, as usual._

Except nothing had been usual for him lately. Nothing at all.

Early in the evening, Regis returned briefly. Ignis stood with him in the parlour, updating him on his son’s condition. He was halfway through his explanation when the bedroom doors opened and a bleary-eyed Noctis emerged. He was a mess; his clothes were rumpled and his hair stuck up in countless directions. He was pale, but the feverish blotches on his cheeks had faded.

“Noct!” Regis hurried as best he could to Noctis’ side. “How are you?”

“I dunno,” Noctis said through a yawn. He scrubbed at his hair, sending it into madder disarray. “I don’t remember how I got here.”

“Sit down,” Ignis said, guiding Noctis to a chair.

Noctis did what he was told. He looked up at Regis. “Happy Birthday, Dad,” he said. “Sorry about whatever I did.”

“You haven’t done anything,” Regis said. “You’re unwell.”

“Am I?” Noctis asked. “My head’s fuzzy.”

“Are you in pain?” Regis asked.

Noctis tilted his head back, closing his eyes. “No.”

Regis sat in the chair opposite. “What do you remember?”

“I thought… I was supposed to be here for dinner,” Noctis said.

“That was yesterday,” Regis said. “You had a vision. More than one, to be honest. You were overwhelmed.”

Noctis rubbed his head. “Oh.”

“Do you remember anything?” Ignis asked.

Noctis looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure.”

“Not sure?” Regis asked. Noctis looked up at him, worried. Regis realised he’d sounded too sharp, too desperate. “You scared me, Noct. Forgive me.”

“Sorry,” Noctis said. “I really can’t remember anything that I dreamt.”

“It’s for the best,” Regis said.

“I’m sorry about your birthday, too,” Noctis said. “I should come to the evening ball.” He struggled to stand up. Ignis darted to his side, keeping him on his feet when his knees clearly wanted to give way. “See? I can make it.”

“You’re going to stay here and rest,” Regis said.

“But –”

Regis glanced at Ignis, who offered a tiny shrug. “Be honest,” Regis said. “Would you rather attend a ball, or would you prefer to go back to sleep?”

Noctis stared at his feet, his hair falling over his face. “Sleep.”

“Go back to bed,” Regis said.

“Come along,” Ignis said.

Noctis looked up at Regis. Something flickered over his face, an expression Regis couldn’t read. His eyes swam. Regis moved as fast as he could to embrace his son. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Regis felt his son sink into his embrace. His shoulders shook as he sobbed silently. “Talk to me.”

“No. Nothing.” Noctis pulled back, scrubbing his eyes. They were red with tears and exhaustion. “I need more sleep.”

Regis squeezed his shoulder. “Rest well,” he said.

Noctis smiled. “I will. Have fun at your party.”

“Ah, at least I’ll have cake. You’d best be asleep when I return.”

“He will be,” Ignis said.

Noctis allowed Ignis to take him back to Regis’ bed. Relief hit hard. Regis closed his eyes, offering a silent prayer of thanks to Carbuncle. Once again, the tiny guardian had aided Noctis.

Regis’ secrets were safe again.

* * *

Two days later, Noctis felt strong enough to go back to his apartment. Showered and dressed in fresh clothes, Noctis sat on his couch, listening to Ignis cook as his thoughts wandered. What had happened? Why couldn’t he remember the future he’d seen when he’d been with Dad? He could remember everything else except for whatever had happened to him at the Citadel. Something wasn’t right. People weren’t telling him everything. He’d tried asking, but Dad dodged deftly.

Noctis sat back, resting his head against the back of the couch. Honestly, he wouldn’t miss the visions, the headaches or the nosebleeds, not really. He rubbed at his chest, at the heaviness in his heart. He wouldn’t forget anything that important, would he?

Ignis came in carrying two bowls of freshly made soup. “Everything alright?” he asked.

Noctis looked at him. “If you knew something, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

“Knew something?” Ignis asked.

“About what happened at the Citadel the other day.”

“You know what happened,” Ignis said, handing over a bowl of soup.

“If you knew what I saw,” Noctis said. “You’d tell me.”

“I would, but you weren’t coherent. Your mind was overwhelmed. I imagine the reason you can’t remember is because you couldn’t make sense of the visions.” Ignis looked at him. “Is something wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“No, I’m fine,” Noctis said.

“If you’re still having visions –”

“I’m not,” Noctis said. He just couldn’t remember the most recent ones he’d had. And that left him uneasy.

“Enjoy the here and now,” Ignis said. “Whatever the future holds, we’ll deal with it when we come to it.”

Noctis frowned. He’d stopped Gladio and Prompto from having terrible accidents. What if he’d seen something like that again but couldn’t remember it?

“Enough fretting,” Ignis said. “You’ll just have to live the way the rest of us do, dealing with things as they happen.”

“But –”

“It was killing you,” Ignis said. “You were seriously ill. I don’t care what futures you saw. It was too dangerous.”

Noctis blinked at Ignis. “Oh. Uh. Okay.”

“Eat your soup,” Ignis said. “You’ll be going back to school tomorrow. And don’t worry, Prompto doesn’t know. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve been tied up with your duties for the past few days.”

“Right.” Noctis sipped his soup. He looked up at Ignis. “Thanks.”

“You’re always welcome,” Ignis said. “Although you really don’t need to hide it from him when you’re unwell. Prompto cares about you.”

“I didn’t want to worry him,” Noctis said.

“Then you’d best eat and regain your strength, otherwise he’ll take one look at you and know you’re hiding something,” Ignis said.

“Yeah, yeah.” Noctis hoped his unease would fade soon…

…Maybe then he’d be able to believe he wasn’t forgetting the most important thing he’d ever known.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading <3 Always appreciated!
> 
> Don't forget, you can find me (and a couple of bonus stories!) over on [Tumblr ^_^](http://breakfastteatime.tumblr.com/)


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